


Heaven Bound

by Mesmeret



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Dean, Body Horror, Crazy Castiel, Demisexual Castiel, Immortal Castiel, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Psychological Horror, Robot Meg, Space Stations, Suicidal thoughts due to isolation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 22:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3786820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mesmeret/pseuds/Mesmeret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the Supernatural beings who ended World War II and became the guardians of the human race with the Global Overseer Department. Many decades later of harmony later, a problem arises and they mask it with a great publicity stunt. Castiel, the supposed Angel, is sent up to Earth's orbit to cultivate life on the Arkcraft at age twelve. Twenty years later of the company of bees and Meg, a companion robot, he starts to realize they aren't alone. That his hallucinations really did destroy the communications panel.<br/>Dean, son of the late huntress, Mary Winchester, grew up watching and admiring Castiel. It wasn't coincidence that Dean's housemate, Charlie is an engineer hired to fix the communication panel.<br/>Will he get to Castiel in time?<br/><b>Please note that Chapter One has child abuse in it. You can skip it and carry on to Chapter Two!</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to G.O.D.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my lovely and patient Beta, [Yeswayappianway](http://yeswayappianway.tumblr.com/) and my talented artist [ Foreverdc-comics (Art Master Post)](http://foreverdc-comics.tumblr.com/post/116887035254/asexual-supernatural-mini-bang-14-fic-by)
> 
> The past few months have been a crazy time in my life. My computer died and I've been writing this on my iPad. Also got horrendously sick from January through March. But this is going to HAPPEN! Please enjoy!

His first memory as Jimmy Novak was when he was six years old. His mother was dicing tomatoes and he was standing on a stool trying to look over the wide brim of the stew pot. He felt proud getting his mother to let him help her make dinner. He frowned in concentration as he stirred the pasta ladle around the pot. The spaghetti noodles reluctantly bent to his command before giving in. During his little cheer, he dropped the ladle into the boiling water. Without thinking, he reached in to grab it. He remembers feeling the heat and the tears well up in his eyes. But when he pulled out his arm, he was unmarked. He looked up to see his mother's shocked face. The end of the memory fades with his mother's prayers.

From what he understands nowadays, his parents were middle class with aspirations to climb up the social ladder. His parents took him to religious functions and claimed he was blessed. At first, he was still trusting of them. He would take the hot coals they'd hand him in front of party attendees. It always hurt, yet he would have no physical proof of it. He'd scream and cry, but no one consoled him. 

The last time he saw his parents as he had known them was at a Global Overseers Department Christmas Ball. It had been a year of parading Jimmy around. He tried his best to not accept anything handed to him. He would run away if his parents tried to splash or spray him with anything. 

But this night, G.O.D. was also in on the plan. A woman with red hair and lips came over to him and offered to take him to the kids room. He was too excited to see other children to notice no sounds coming from the supposed play room. He screamed and pounded the door as it locked behind him. There were windows of party guests watching him. He saw his mother whispering in the red haired woman's ear with a proud smile. 

He felt rage boil up inside him as the telltale aroma of mustard gas filtered into the room. He felt the burn in his lungs, but never coughed. He kept taking slow deep breaths wishing he was on the outside and everyone else was inside the hazy room. 

Once it cleared, a woman in a gray suit with a GOD medallion on her breast pocket walked into the room. She grabbed his arm and cut it with a small blade so quickly, it took him a second to process. He yelled wordlessly as he tried to grab the knife from her. She laughed and held his head an arm's distance from her, "He is perfect. We're proud to welcome him into G.O.D."

He slumped in defeat as the adults clapped politely and his parents kissed each other with grins. His arm was already healed.


	2. Lift Off Leaves A Mark

"John!"  
The young mechanic looked up from the car he was working on, "What is it?"  
"They exist! Angels are real!" Mary pulled up her fiancé into a big hug.  
He chuckled into her blonde hair. Their new house had shelves of cherub, seraph, and archangel figurines she had been collecting over the past 23 years. "Are they now?"  
"Yes! Though it was G.O.D. who found the angel. They are going to be revealed during tonight's news."  
John kissed her forehead, "Well, if the angel really is one, I don't think they will be able to control it fully."  
"I hope so too," Mary grinned up at him before heading back into the office of Campbell Mechanics.

John held a trembling Mary wrapped in an angelic quilt. Four pundits debate what it means for angels to exist while the timer ticks down to the unveiling. It felt more like a theatrical spectacle than a world changing revelation. At four minutes, Mary scurries to the bathroom to expel her nerves. John keeps a sympathetic smile as she curls back into his side. He is interested in seeing what a real angel looks like but cautious as well.  
The jingle for the Global Overseers Department dings as the screen goes black. Mary holds John's hand tightly as the black fades out to reveal Josie Sands in her signature red dress and lipstick. She smiles revealing perfect teeth, "Good evening, everyone. It is a true honor to introduce you to what we can only describe as an angelic being that God, himself, has blessed us with. But first, in hopes ofto seeing if there are any more angels, let's talk to the angel's parents."  
The camera follows her as she turns to a middle aged couple who look dazed. She gestures at them, "This is Harold and Elizabeth Novak. They are human, but somehow gave birth to a precious angel. Now, tell us about the moment when you realized your child was not what they seemed?"  
Mary frowned at the fake sounding laugh from Elizabeth. John felt her nails dig into his palm and he moved his other hand to rub her neck. The brunette on the screen looked at the camera, "Our darling loved helping me cook. One day when we were roasting a chicken, my baby got impatient and pulled out the chicken from the oven! Without oven mitts, to my horror! But their arms showed no burns!"  
Harold startled and looked around before smiling sheepishly. He wasn't accustomed to the producers talking in his ear piece. "Ah, yes. It was a miracle. And then he- I mean, they put the chicken back in the oven because it wasn't ready yet!"  
Josie smiled, "What a doll. Well, let's meet the angel, Castiel!"  
The camera panned to the left and a small boy in a little white linen Sunday suit walked over to the adults. He squints in confusion at his parents while sitting next to Josie. The camera tries to cut away quickly, but both John and Mary notice something's off.  
"Hello, Castiel! Why don't you say hello to the world? They are just right there," Josie points a red nail at the camera.  
The angel gives a shy wave at the camera. It zooms in on his glassy blue eyes and rosy cheeks as he looks up at Josie. She laughs lightly, "You are so cute. How old are you?"  
He frowns and looks at his parents, "I'm eight years old."  
His mom laughs nervously, "Isn't he an imp? Castiel, what is your real age? It's okay. No need to hide who you are anymore."  
Castiel continues to frown but answers, "I'm older than this planet."  
Josie coos, "Aw! But I'm curious, and I'd imagine so is the world, where are your wings?"  
Castiel looks down at his hands before looking at Josie, "I am sad you can't see them. Thanks to G.O.D., we have learned that humans can't see my wings since they can't comprehend the being of light I truly am."  
Josie arched her brow, "Wow. But can you still feel me touching your wings?"  
Castiel bit his lip as she petted behind him, "Yes, I feel everything."  
"Now, I've heard that there is some sad news along with all of this good. Elizabeth, would you care to elaborate?" Josie asked.  
Elizabeth gave a sniff, "Back when our son was five years old, he was dying from a fatal illness."  
Harold handed his wife a tissue and continued for her, "We thought he did die. We couldn't feel his pulse that night. We were too scared and decided to wait until the morning to have his body taken away. We prayed for his soul to be in the best heaven possible. Then-"  
"He woke us up by jumping on our bed that morning! It was such a miracle! It took us a while for us to realize just how much of one it was!" Elizabeth exclaimed.  
"Yes, but unfortunately, G.O.D. did discover your son, Jimmy Novak, passed away that night. It turns out angels need a willing vessel of a specific bloodline. Castiel was fortunate enough to find his own, is that right?" Josie turned to Castiel.  
His stage makeup barely hid the sick tinge on his cheeks. His glassy blue eyes turned watery., "Yes, that is true."  
Josie gave a pout at him before turning to the camera, "Isn't he compassionate? He's thinking of who helped him into this world! Now, if you or any of your loved ones have shown any traits of amazing power, please notify G.O.D. Castiel is lonely being the only known angel, aren't you?"  
Castiel gave a weepy nod and the screen went to black.

"What the fuck was that?!" Mary got up and stomped around the living room. John gave her space to vent as he checked Twitter. It seemed Mary was the only skeptic. Everyone was tweeting about how precious Castiel was and how they hoped they could become angels too. He held up his phone to show Mary.  
"That is just sick! G.O.D. is just trying to start up another purge. That poor boy did nothing to prove his angelic abilities! Goddamnit! I'm going to use the punching bag. It's best if you spot me, babe," she stomped down the basement stairs to their training room. He followed and helped her aiming while he thought about what they saw.

 

Jimmy felt more like a lab rat than an omniscient being of light. Weeks of deprivation mixed with weeks of massive stimulation. But even when they were depriving him of air, there was a constant feed of information he was forced to consume. There was no moment to dwell on the present. The interview with his parents was on temporary hiatus from his memory as advanced engineering and biotechnology set up their roosts.

It was scarier before the launch. He wasn't certain they were actually launching him to orbit. Too many moments of deception in the past four years had dulled his psyche. Hope morphed into the anticipated silence of Earth's orbit.  
He watched the cameras capturing his escorted walk to the locker room of the launch complex. He heard Meg beep in laughter beside him as the medical assistant put his clothes in a locker. He smiled down at her. He really hoped she would come with. He never voiced his feelings about her, afraid that they would try to take advantage of him through her.  
He didn't flinch as the assistant stuck the IV needle into the port in his arm. He closed his eyes as the metallic rush of diphenhydramine and sodium chloride filled his mouth and nose. Even the almighty angel was susceptible to motion sickness at mach speed. The assistant took his vitals before letting him suit up. He avoided the mirror as he splashed his face after relieving himself of his liquid breakfast.  
Josie was waiting in the hallway in a black dress holding flowers. He gave her a small nod while Meg beeped a greeting. She held out the flowers and his gloved hand fumbled to hold them upright. "A thank you would be nice."  
He mumbled a thank you before cautiously sniffing the carnations and tulips. They lacked a floral scent and his nose buzzed like the time they had him on a coccaine bender. His mind started to buzz and focus on the colorful reporters and fans screaming to have a look at him. His heart pounded with the added sense of reality.  
"Smile with me, Castiel. We are going live in three, two," Josie opened the door. "Hello, world! What a historic day today is!"  
He smiled wider as he felt the dizziness of his arms brought about his head. He prayed to pass out but the dosage prevented his escape from the cacophony of the thousand.  
"Let's take a moment to admire this brave being who will be watching over us from above. His new abode, the Arkcraft, has been officially built as of yesterday afternoon! Many thanks to the engineers of Roman Enterprises for spending the years of constructing the Arkcraft," Josie gave polite applause after gesturing at the thirty something people to her right. She then turned to him and gave the side of his forehead a kiss leaving a stamp of red lipstick. "The clock just started! Half an hour to lift off! Go on, my angel!"  
He was whisked away to the elevator that glowed in the dawn light. His mind was starting to crack as the cockpit was opened for him. He stayed quiet but his heart monitor was betraying his apprehension. The medical assistant, Pamela, rubbed his back after removing the lipstick and sweat from his temple. She put on the unnecessary breathing apparatus over his head. He indulged on the oxygen flow as Mission Control announced it was twenty minutes until launch. He closed his eyes praying for the one percent chance that the fuselages will burn him out of existence over the Atlantic ocean. Mission Control announced the bolt doors were locked and the cockpit was to be placed and pressurized. He grunted at the pop in his ears and the lurch of the cockpit being sent up eighty feet up to it's designated spot.. He looked around at the control panels and the windows ahead of him finally opened to reveal blue. He felt euphoria nibble at his extremities as T-minus ten minutes was announced. The murmurs of engineers triple checking the equipment numbed his brain.  
To his dismay, Josie's voice and the drone of thousands was what he heard for the final countdown. Thankfully the roar of the fuel ignition drowned out the last four numbers and his body hit the seat as physics took effect.  
Two and a half minutes of being propelled out of Earth's atmosphere was the baptism he needed. The vibrations blurred his already impaired vision and rattled his meat suit. He let out a scream, notwith no caringe that it caused Mission Control to yell at him. The control panel alerted him he was at the right line of travel to reach the Arkcraft. He pressed the homing beacon button. He smiled at the silence and distorted view of space. Mission Control got back online and asked him how he was doing. He grinned as he saw the giant metal and silicon rhombicosidodecahedron shaped  
spacecraft, "I see home."  
Josie's voice replied, "Oh, how lovely! He's already calling the Arkcraft home! Remember to land properly, Castiel! We don't want you to drift away from us!"  
He gave a loud groan.  
"Castiel! This is being recorded live on Global television," Josie hissed.  
"Look. I just left you and your fucking cameras. Can you leave me in peace while I get used to this shit?" He shouted into his microphone feeling a thrill of his rebellion bubble in his belly.  
"Castiel, we just had to feign a communication drop just now. That was unnacceptable. Trust me, the moment you get to the Arckcraft, you have to give a guided tour of the spacecraft. I want smiles, jokes, and well wishes for humanity. Or I will make your next year more miserable than the time we broke your ribs."  
He winced, "Fine."  
"Good," Josie said before ending the communication line. He mouthed off at her once he knew communications were completely offline. He sighed with a smile once his tirade was over.  
It took twenty minutes to get to the Arkcraft and another five to get the airlock and shuttle to latch properly. His cockpit pod then rolled back to the drop zone and was released. He started to shake as he realized the mission was a success. The Arkcraft AI opened his pod door and he gasped as the oxygen tube started to float up in front of him. His hands trembled as he unbuckled his torso from the cockpit seat. He pushed himself out of pod and cautiously took off the breathing apparatus. It might be unnecessary on Earth, he still didn't know if there was a chance that he would feel the burn of oxygen deprivation in space. Although he could tell there was more nitrogen in the air than oxygen, he was fine.  
He paddled his way over to the entrance latch of the airlock and typed in the code. He held on to the railing preparing for the drop. It was more severe than he anticipated. Once he was on the other side of the latch, he popped his shoulder back in and gave the latch the finger. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the white LED lights illuminating the white and gray hallway. He walked to the spacecraft map on the curved wall of the main circular hallway that divided the inner rooms and exterior storage and engine rooms.  
He jumped with a gasp as a familiar beep echoed throughout the hallway. He looked down to see Meg. He knew she was different to the one on Earth, she was better. She still looked a chess pawn. Her four foot tall silicone form had colors dancing under the shell. Her top dome had a camera and her neck band was a surround sound speaker. Her round base hid a ring of roller balls and motion detectors.

A sultry voice laughed from her speaker as the colors shifted to yellows, reds, and oranges. "Hello, there, kiddo."  
He dropped down and hugged her, "Hey, yourself."  
She felt good and warm to his surprise. The skin-like silicone was soft and supple. He bit his lip realizing what this Meg's purpose was. He was a preteen. He wasn't stupid.  
He pulled away and stood back up, "Can you lead me to my room? I'm suppose to give a tour of this place to Earth."  
"Oh, joy," Meg deadpanned with her colors going shifting to blacks and reds.  
He smiled at the cheeky robot as she rolled forward to the living quarters. He looked to his right at the windowed engine rooms running on solar energy and hydrogen farming. Meg stopped in front of the living quarters, "Needs your hand to enter, kiddo."  
He pressed his hand on the biometric lock pad and the doors slid open. He blinked as the room was lit with UV lights. All of the colors were off. "Hey, Meg. Is there any way I can change the lighting?"  
"Anti Bacterial lighting off. Soft LEDs on. Back on in three hours for sleeping hours," Meg announced before rolling to a designated charging bay. "Aw, they gave me a bed too."  
"Aren't you special," he quipped as he sat on his bed. He was pleasantly surprised to find the mattress to be of memory foam. He looked at the exercise equipment and knew his routine would be tedious. He remembered the exercise coach back on Earth telling him that if he stuck to it, he would be getting a six pack by the time he was eighteen. Whoop dee doo.  
Meg bumped his leg, "I am getting a request for a communication link. Let's go to the control room?"  
"Fine," He got up and followed her to the room to the right of his living quarters. It was also lit with the anti-bacterial UV lighting. Meg's AI promptly switched it to the soft LEDs. He rubbed her dome in thanks and his touch left pink spots. She gave a moan before speaking, "Communication connected to G.O.D. Headquarters television studio number thirty. Going live with visual and audio. On."  
"Castiel is in the Arkcraft! Hello, Castiel!" Josie and her occasional co hosts Fergus and Naomi waved at the camera. It panned over the studio audience waving and shouting.  
Fergus spoke in his Scottish accent, "Tell me, Angel, what's it like up there?"  
He smiled at the blinking light by the screen, "It's quiet. Though my companion, Meg, is a pleasant conversationalist."  
It was eerie seeing himself and Meg being filmed on the screen. Meg beeped and exclaimed, "I'm on TV! I'm looking good!"  
The audience laughed and Naomi spoke into her microphone, "What a lovely creation from Roman Enterprises' robotic research team!"  
Josie grinned, "Indeed! Let's see what else they came up with! Castiel, please show us around your humble abode!"

An hour later, he was finally done showing the two labs, empty greenhouse, living quarters, control room, four engine rooms, four storage rooms, robotics repair and storage room, filtration room, the observation deck, and the airlock.  
Meg deactivated the communication feed and sighed loudly, "I hate how they made me sound like such a spaz. Sorry, kiddo."  
He looked at her with a shrug while drinking a juice box, "Hopefully they will forget about us one day."  
"Well, they did seem to forget it's your twelfth birthday," Meg spoke as her colors became muted blues and greens.  
"They gave me the best birthday present, though," he flopped back onto his bed.  
"Want me to play music and zone out a bit?" Meg asked. Her colors became a vivid rainbow of spots.  
"Sure, DJ Meg," he smiled around his straw as soft music and a light show started to play from Meg's dome.

He was staring at the wall while mindlessly pedaling the stationary bike and lifting the five pound weights when Meg whirred into the room quickly. He looked over at her, "Today?"  
"They just launched it! Screen on. Trajectory projection on," Meg replied. The wall in front of him revealed the math equation graphed into a sleek presentation. He looked at his watch, three more minutes of exercise. He slowed down a little and kept his breathing steady. According to the screen, he had about forty minutes to suit up and get ready to retrieve the fourth shipment of supplies since he moved to the Arkcraft.  
He was now thirteen and a bit moodier than before. The annoying blonde therapist prattled on about how he was experiencing new feelings and that he should keep pure and just take sleeping pills for those urges. He never did. Exercise helped more and so did actually touching himself. His second supply shipment was half necessities and the rest were of fan mail and gifts. It was awful. He was filmed opening everything and was expected to have a response to the emotional letters, saucy pics, and ugly clothes.  
He was twelve and people thought it was appropriate to send him naked photos. It made him queaszy how gullible and perverse people were.  
And today, he was supposed to get more.  
He got off the stationary bike and stretched his hamstrings and quads before wiping off his sweat. He felt his stomach rebel at the thought of bringing in the shipment shuttle. He grabbed a piece of medicated gum from his desk and chewed the sugary orange coating. Meg followed him to the airlock playing some mellow electronica. He was thankful that her main engineer kept her the same during each AI update. The update days were the worse. He would curl up in bed with her in his arms and pray for her to just get more music and that be it.  
"You should suit up quickly, kiddo. It's faster than initially calculated," Meg spoke.  
He rolled his eyes, "I'm not the Flash for fuck's sake."  
"Yeah, but I'm Wonder Woman. Scoot it," Meg nudged the back of his calf.  
He tightened the last buckle and put on his helmet. He turned on the communication receiver, "Loud and clear?"  
"Crystal. Good luck, kiddo," Meg said in his helmet before she rolled back to the control room. He typed in the code for the airlock and braced for the gravity to go off. He looked up as the pentagonal panel opened up. He clipped his rope to the pole and let himself drift up to the vacuum of space. He gave a grunt as the momentum of the rotating Arkcraft caused him to slip a little while clipping himself to the exterior frame of the spacecraft. He needed to do repairs as well as pilot the shipment the last little ways due to the important contents.  
Repairing solar panels were easy. Timing a jump of an unknowable distance is harder. He did have jets to help him for a yard or less of distance, but other than that, he just had Meg's brilliant AI calculating for that perfect moment. She rambled in his headset as he sat on the side of the Arkcraft as it spun. He felt a little less woozy, the medicated gum was starting to kick in.  
"...Affirmative! Secure ropes and prep rocket jets for remote control. Arch your back and launch in three, two, go! Spread arms and brace for impact!" Meg spoke tersely as he followed her instructions.  
Falling in space was worse than on Earth. He screamed as he felt his left arm snap as it hit the metal frame of the supply shuttle while the rest of his body hit the landing pad. "Fucking, fuck's sake. Fuck! This is bad, so bad! It's useless! Gonna die, Meg! Oh, god, slipping! Slipping!"  
"Adrenaline shot release. You can do this, kiddo. Breathe in. One, two, three, four. Exhale six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Okay?"  
The adrenaline rushed through him from his femoral artery and the steady breathing allowed him the strength to type the code to get into the shuttle. Once inside, he puked in his helmet before he could fully get it off. He groaned loudly and let his left arm hang limp as he turned on the necessary switches, "Can't wait till the team gets their act together and writes a good landing program for fuck's sake!"  
"You and me both, kiddo. Beacon is on and Arkcraft is righting itself for a smooth landing. Medbots have been activated and prepping the medical bay. Do you want transport to there?"  
"Fuck yes. Also get some of the builder bots to remove the shipment crates while the arm gets healed. Don't want to see this fucking piece of shit again."  
"They are on their way. Keep breathing. Almost there, almost there. Okay, now coast."  
He blinked as consciousness tried to leave him as he guided the shipment shuttle to the bottom of the air lock. Once the engine was off he mumbled, "Yep, going out now."

He came to groggilyy with his arm in a special pressurized chamber to ensure his bones and muscles healed properly. Meg rolled up to him with her spots forming a smiley face, "Good morning, kiddo. Looks like it will take you six hours and twenty minutes to heal compound fractures of the humerus, ulna, and radius. You were asleep for five hours and forty three minutes. A nice number, in my opinion. How are you feeling? Up to eating or no?"  
He blinked at her, "Are the eggs okay?"  
"Yes, they are. Nothing was damaged. Though we should wait for the carbonated items to settle."  
He gave a relieved sigh, "Food later. Just want to sleep."  
"I'll wake you up in an hour for your exercise, kiddo."

 

Even with the lighting rotating on the spectrum, he could still tell time was not cyclical in space as it was on Earth. This made waiting for things more painful to him than his body regrowing his right pinky in a day. Meg tried to distract him once her AI recognized his pacing didn't mean he was getting more exercise.  
"They need three more days, Kiddo. You took 90 times that to be kicking and screaming out of Birthing Canal," Meg tittered while shining pink spots on the walls.  
He smiled at her phrasing. She decided to call his mother Birthing Canal after he confided in her about his childhood. "Yeah, I know. I just hope they all hatch properly. I can't imagine what will happen if they all die."  
"You have a batch of four hundred virgin queens in larva or pupal stages of life. Only human error can be their demise," Meg gave a beep. "Sorry. I mean, their demise would only be guaranteed if you threw their lodgings against a wall."  
He gave a hollow laugh, "I'm not quite certain I won't do that, Meg."  
"No, you won't, Clarence. I believe in you," Meg bumped his leg affectionately. "Let's go drown those stupid plants."  
He rolled his eyes but followed Meg to the garden room. He was very proud of the plants he cultivated. Though the official name of the room made him gag, the rich mulch and flower aromas didn't. It was had been an uncomfortable live tour he had to do for G.O.D. once he planted the final sage bush. Naomi lauded him for "bringing the garden of Paradise back from the snake of temptation." He ignored her and rambled about how the herbs will be the best for the bees. He didn't care how Naomi and Josie tried to get him back on track with their propaganda. He was looking forward to his bees so he was going to talk about them. Meg, the little rebel that she was, never punished him for his zeal.  
He carefully dispensed the water into his watering can and walked around the massive garden tending his plants. Meg stuck to her little path and read the news to him. One of her engineers seemed to be sloppy with limiting her access to the internet. He encouraged her to obtain and inform him of what G.O.D. was up to. Most of the time, she would update him of their new propaganda. But there were moments when she would find an encrypted newsfeed with startling stories.  
"A peculiar story keeps on appearing, Clarence," Meg pulsed bright yellow and green before going black when he gave a nod for her to continue. "A woman's obituary. It states that she was recovered from a house fire with her insides and eyes burned out."  
"Ew. How is that possible?" he mused.  
"It gets better. Well, far worse in human terms. Her husband claimed the arsonist was a man in a white suit who called himself the angel, Lucifer. Obviously, G.O.D. is trying to keep this under wraps. The source of this article is from a very secure server hive that holds a staggering amount of data. I can't decrypt 99.998% of it. But what I have saved will be some fun bedtime stories."  
"Meg. That is probably some sort of hoax. Angels don't exist," he pulled off a dying basil leaf and rolled between his fingers.  
"I have so much evidence to disprove that statement. Especially with what I gathered from this mystery source. There's photos of the family, their house, and her body," Meg rolled in a circle projecting exclamation marks to show her excitement.  
"Fine, sicko," he muttered as he finished watering the perennials. He walked over to her as she projected a family portrait of an attractive married couple and their two young children. The father had dark hair and circles under his eyes but a wide, loving smile. The mother was blonde with a reserved smile. She held a plump baby boy who looked at the camera with drool pooling on his left dimple. The father had a hand on the eldest boy's shoulder. The boy wore a t-shirt with a teddy bear saying 'I love hugs' and a shy smile.  
He couldn't help smiling despite knowing the family was now missing a key member. He gave a jolt when Meg showed him a crime scene photo of the mother in a pristine white nightgown with her eyes burned out. What upset him the most was her smile. It wasn't reserved like the one in the family portrait. It was peaceful.  
"Who was she?" he asked while looking away.  
"Mary Winchester, died at age twenty-six. She was an office manager for her husband's mechanic shop," Meg responded. "Her husband is John Winchester, twenty-seven years old. Eldest son, Dean, is four years old. And the baby, Samuel, is six months old."  
"Wow," he muttered.  
"Oh, wow indeed! I decrypted some more files pertaining to John and Mary Winchester. I don't understand what they say, but they are very interesting. What I do know is video," Meg chirped and started projecting a video file. He turned back to look at the wall. He squinted at the perspective of the camera until he realized it might be a military training exercise video. But the camera was tracking a blonde woman in civilian clothes with a pony tail and machete. She is crouching behind a fence in broad daylight and gestures at the camera to follow but never showed her face. She opens the gate from the other side and slips into the backyard. He notices he's chewing his nails as the basil oils settle on his tongue.  
The camera looks at the glass door of the living room where two women are napping on on a couch together. The woman cautiously walks to the door and opens it. The cameraman follows closely behind and checks the sleeping women pulses. The camera leans forward to capture the pair of bite marks on their jugulars. The camera turns suddenly and a spray of red coats the lens. A few disorienting seconds later, the lens is cleaned and shows John Winchester frowning with a face covered in blood before the camera is put back on his head.  
He feels sick and confused as the camera panned across the three decapitated bodies of men on the living room floor. The blonde, Mary Winchester, was laughing and cleaning her machete before leaning towards the camera with the rag. The camera was full of blonde hair for a few seconds. She pulled away with kiss bruised lips and a wink. The camera elevated and looked down again at the two sleeping women. He hoped they were just sleeping. The camera dipped down and John was switching his gaze to and fro from the woman he was carrying and where his US Marine issued boots stepped. Once he was back in the alley way, the camera turned back to Mary carrying the other woman on her back. The married couple placed the women in the backseats of their classic car and the video ended with blonde hair once again covering the lens.  
"I'm not really good with body language, but I can tell she is a murderer and he's aroused by that," Meg quipped. "And from what experts say, filming murder is a sign of a psychopath."  
"There were bite marks on those women," he muttered while trying to compose himself. It was the first time he ever seen such brutality. His heart was racing and he pulled out his anti-nausea gum from his pocket. He chewed slowly as his mind raced. The Winchesters were enigmas and he didn't necessarily want to solve them. "Meg, could you delete all of this? Have a bad feeling about it all."  
For the first time, Meg's AI decided lying was the best choice. She changed to her normal colors of red and black, "It's deleted. Have you drowned the plants enough?"

As he snored in his bed that night, she strayed from her charging bay and watched the archived videos of the Winchesters in the security system's blind spot. It took her seventy-six days to decrypt enough files to understand the Winchesters. She kept tabs on John Winchester and what he really did for work. She gathered from his personal conversations, that he was a mess and in danger of harming himself and his sons. Her prerogative is was to keep humans safe and from out of harm's way. Seeing the videos of violence tested her coding programming every second they played. She became convinced it was a good idea to send John a message. It took a few minutes to determine the most effective phrasing and the method of delivery.  
John was looking up directions to his father's compound on his phone when he got a text with no sender, 'Don't worry. Castiel is watching over you.'

 

On the surface, John and Mary Winchester were part of the family owned Campbell Mechanics and Junkyard. Mary was endearingly assertive in their relationship while John did his best to be beside her every step of the way. His love for her was boundless.  
Below the surface, John Winchester and Mary Winchester were more than a mechanic and administrator. Their families were dedicated to eradicating evil. Centuries ago, the Campbell ancestors settled in the area as fur trappers. One night, the family killed a beast the local tribe called a Wendigo. For about 400 years, they prospered in their niche of "Pest Control" and "Hunting Trips". They focused only on the monsters they were good at exterminating. As the world became far more digital and connected, the Campbell Hunters made a partnership with The Men of Letters. By then, the Campbell Hunters were a multitude of militant men and women who were paranoid of their legacy becoming known to people who didn't need their help.  
The legend of the Men of Letters was of an ancient religious order dedicated to preserve knowledge of the occult and bizarre. They were believed to have influence over all governments and were the reason why the world united as one. But once the Campbell Hunters tracked down one of their headquarters, the deadly hunters were annoyed to discover dozens of priests, archivists, and witches of white magic. After making sure both parties were of good intentions and human, the Men of Letters became the Campbell Hunters' communication liaisons and reference librarians with the agreement that each hunter family had their stories and hunting techniques archived.  
Most Men of Letters opted to become priests or archivists while a few chose to become adventurers. Growing up in the Kansas Headquarters, John enjoyed reading Frank Baum's reports of his wife's adventures around the world and other worlds. When he was little, he told his father, Father Henry, that he wanted to adventure. Henry was hesitant since it had already been finalized that John would be little Mary Campbell's correspondent. Once John understood what that meant, he decided to become strong enough to join Mary. They would see each other when Samuel brought his family to Kansas for Christmas. Every year, John would try to prove himself as both a hunter and a correspondent. Mary ignored him until they were in their teens. Hormones rampant, their first sparring match became their first kisses. Mary started her training young but her first hunt on her own was when she was eighteen. Although it was a simple vengeful spirit in a quiet Massachusetts town, John spent the night in his truck close by the house. He woke up that morning to Samuel knocking his door holding coffee. Once the coffee settled and the hunter was gone, John realized Samuel gave his approval of marriage.  
John didn't propose officially for years, though. They were comfortable with traveling around the world masquerading as hikers or honeymooners while Mary killed dozens of monsters. Mary joked that they were sampling all of their honeymoon options.  
A main constant was the angelic figurines she would bring along with them. Once, they were notified of a nest of vampires that Mary's cousins weren't able to handle on their own. They were on a flight to St. Louis when Mary realized she didn't have any of her angels with her. John made a promise to get one as soon as he dropped her off at her cousins' motel room. John drove to the antiques shop after he checked in with his father and Samuel.  
He came back to the empty motel suite with the towheaded cherub. He placed it on the counter and got out the med kits and extra towels. Samuel warned him that one of the cousins was still a bit sloppy with the machete. The trio of exhausted hunters barged into the suite two hours later. John woke up quickly from his nap and got to work checking on their wounds. Mary was only bruised while her cousins had some scrapes and nicks. She was pissy until she saw the cherub by John's smart phone. John's face heated with happiness as a beautiful smile filled hers.  
Ever since then, he would get her a little angel for each hunt.

 

Mary was reckless when she was sixteen. She snuck down to the basement where her father had a demon chained and gagged. She thought she could outwit a simple demon. But it was not a simple demon. She woke up the next morning to Samuel shaking her with dread and fear on his face. Two days later, it was confirmed that Mary sold her soul to Hell so one day she could meet an angel. Only her father, Henry Winchester, and herself carried the burden of her dark secret until her death.

Dean was wearing his batman costume as his pjs for the fourth night in a row. Mary smiled sadly at the comical fake arm muscles her young one was using as pillows while he slept. She kissed his forehead and whispered a protection prayer, a nightly ritual she did with the three boys in her life. She quietly walked across the hall to Sammy's crib hoping to not wake the infant. Mary felt her bracelet burn as the front door opened. She couldn't hold back the tears as her secret burden walked up the stairs.  
She whispered the prayer quickly against Sammy's soft hair before the figure stepped into the room. It was a man in a white suit. He had longish hair and a soft smile that glowed. She swallowed and took a step towards the hidden demon dagger in the pile of plushies.  
"No need, Mary," the man spoke with a deep, comforting voice. "It wouldn't be of any use."  
She shook her head and grabbed for it anyways. She looked back at him and he was leaning against the crib, "I guess I was an ugly baby."  
He smiled, revealing dimples. She noticed he had the same mole her baby Sammy had. She took a deep breath holding the dagger steadily before whispering, "State your name."  
"You already know, Mary. The contract had to be carried through someway or another," he shrugged. "You wanted to meet an angel, so here I am. Funny how long it took for the demons to remember who I am."  
Mary did her best to stare at him as tears welled up, "How dare you."  
"No, mother! How dare you!" He bellowed knocking away her dagger with a wave of his hand. "Why did you have to be so simple? Meet an angel?! Why couldn't you say live with an angel!"  
She collapsed as her ragged breaths depraved her of oxygen. She screamed to mask John's concerned shouts. The monster before her snarled and silenced her, "Don't wake me up."  
"Mommy?" Dean peeked through the doorway with sleepy eyes. John shot the man in the white suit before entering the room. Dean screamed, paralyzed. The man in the white suit turned around to reveal the front of his suit obliterated with exit wounds, "Dad, you got blood on me."  
John also froze in horror beside his eldest as the monster flickered away. Mary grabbed Sammy, "We need to get out of the house!"  
John grabbed Dean, abandoning the shotgun, "What's going on? Mary, please tell me things are going to be alright!"  
She didn't answer because the monster was waiting for them in a clean suit at the bottom of the stairs.  
"Mom didn't tell you? I thought she would have," the monster said with mock sadness. "She wanted to meet an angel. So here I am. Your son is a great vessel."  
"Oh God! Mary!" John stared at Mary in horror as Dean trembled in his arms. He turned to the monstrous angel and couldn't hide the tremble in his voice, "Please don't tell me she has to die."  
"I am afraid so. If it helps, you Winchesters trapped Lucifer in a time paradox. This is the start to my own personal hell," the angel said with brief sincerity. "I recommend you leave with Dean and Sammy before Midnight strikes."  
John looked at the old grandfather clock and saw he had twenty minutes. He didn't dare hide his anguish as he moved Sammy to Dean's arms to hold Mary to his chest. He sobbed into her hair as she mumbled apologies that soon turned to begging for them to leave her. John pulled away and went to the front door. He couldn't resist looking at the pair before closing the door. For a second it looked like Sam holding his mother when he came home after college. But then he held her head. John slammed the door to keep the lethal light from his boys and himself. He leaned against the front door sobbing against Sammy's head. Dean stayed in a mute trance until he noticed the light inside the house turning amber, "Fire! Daddy!"

The next week, John is standing in the rubble of what was once Mary's angel sanctuary. Burned angel figurines and the ashes of the less fortunates figurines still reek of smoke and flame retardant. He can't cry with the neighbors watching from their porches and Dean holding Sammy in what was once their living room. He opens a moving box and places all of the salvageable figurines protected in bubble wrap in it.  
"Daddy..." Dean's timid voice pipes up.  
"Yeah?" John stands up and gives his boy a smile. "What is it?"  
"Do we need to kill Sammy?" Dean says with a too serious tone for his small frame.  
"What?!" John feels tears well up. Mary always joked he was the cryer between them.  
"I can do it, Daddy," Dean says but gets distracted by Sammy trying to mouth his blue t-shirt. "At least I think I can. If he's really a monster, then I'll be mommy and-"  
"No! Christ, Dean. Don't ever think of such things! Come here, son," John drops to his knee and holds his arms open for Dean to stumble towards him carrying Sammy. Dean's nerves age his face until he feels John rubbing his back. John smiles back at Dean before leaning to whisper in Dean's ear, "Your mother, my Mary, made some foolish decisions when she was a teenager. And in our world, those tend to be fatal. She signed a contract to meet an angel with a demon. The demon being a demon chose Lucifer."  
Dean whispers back, "Why was it Sammy who was Lucifer?"  
"I don't know. But that does not give you the right to kill your brother, Dean. Come on, help me finish up here so we can move in at Grandpa Henry's."  
"Yeah! Batcave! We get to live in a Batcave, Sammy!" Dean cheers while bouncing Sammy gently causing the infant to burp and coo.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thank you so much to my lovely and patient Beta, [Yeswayappianway](http://yeswayappianway.tumblr.com/) and my talented artist [ Foreverdc-comics (Art Master Post)](http://foreverdc-comics.tumblr.com/post/116887035254/asexual-supernatural-mini-bang-14-fic-by)


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